Chapter Seventeen

Jesse

I slept fitfully, tossing and turning the entire night, unable to find a position I was comfortable in for more than a few minutes. It happened every so often, usually when I was having a particularly nasty bit of songwriter’s block, as if the music and lyrics were logjammed somewhere in my spine and wouldn’t let me get comfortable until I got them out.

When I finally did zonk out, it was late into the night. Waking up to my alarm much too soon, I shuffled in my bed and went on high alert when I realized someone was in the room with me. The shadow by the window, with the light coming in behind them, turned and as I squinted, I realized it was Logan. He was looking out of the window and was holding something in one of his hands.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked.

As my vision became clearer, the cobwebs of the short night’s sleep going away, I realized what it was he was holding. It was Dad’s old pump-action shotgun. Why in the world would he have that, unless…

I hopped out of the bed and went to the other window which looked out over the main road and down toward the Millers’.

“Look at the fence,” Luke said.

“Shit.”

In the distance, there was movement in the early morning light. It looked like a person, but it could have been an animal. It was too far away and there were still too many shadows to be able to tell. Thankfully, I’d gone to bed wearing clothes this time, so I yanked on my boots and grabbed a shirt as Logan turned toward the door to go out and downstairs.

I followed him as we thundered down, and I wondered where everyone else was. Luke must have stayed with Amber again, and I couldn’t blame him for after everything with the Andersons. Collin should be here somewhere, though—Owen too, unless he ended up staying over where he went last night after everything was over.

“Should I go get the revolver?” I asked as I got to the bottom of the steps.

Logan was already to the front door.

“No, just follow me,” he said.

I nodded, taking off after him and heading toward the side of the house where we’d seen the shadow. We ran for what seemed like a long time, well past the Millers’ place, and spread out a bit to see if we could find the owner of the shadow. Slowly, we came to a stop, and looked at each other.

“We must have missed them,” Logan said.

“Unless they were already gone before we got out here,” I said. “Or worked around us and headed back to the house.”

“Ah, shit,” Logan said. “Nobody’s there. We need to get back there.”

The house was over a hill, which was fine running down as we headed that way, but was a hell of a lot harder to run up. It was a pretty steep hill, and I was terrified that when we crested it, we’d see the house on fire or something. Instead, it loomed in the distance, perfectly fine, and for a second, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Son of a bitch!” Logan yelled.

“What?” I called out.

Logan had come up closer to the fence than I had, and was looking straight ahead. I followed his gaze and saw what he was upset about. A part of the fence was completely destroyed, leading to the road. Some of the animals had already started to wander out that way, chickens crossing the street and one of the horses walking up it toward the Millers’.

“Go, go, go!” I shouted.

Panicked, we ran toward the animals, me taking off toward the horse while Logan went after one of the pigs that had sauntered out toward the road but hadn’t crossed it yet. He tried to guide them in as I grabbed the horse by the neck and calmed her down. It was Bently, the only foal our mama’s personal horse, Sunshine, ever had.

“Come on, Bently, come on boy,” I said, guiding him off the road and back around toward the fence.

I didn’t have a harness or anything else, so all I could do was try to guide him by the neck or hop on him bareback. If he didn’t follow me, I’d have to hop on him, and I had no idea how that would go.

Thankfully, Bently didn’t fight, and I was able to get him back to the broken area of the fence and into the field, where I slapped his rump and he took off for the barn. All that was left now were the chickens, who, while not the smartest animals in the world, at least were smart enough not to stand in the middle of the road. After a few minutes of chasing, Logan and I had collected them all and brought them back into our field.

“What the hell happened here?” Logan asked.

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t a storm,” I said. “Look, this looks like it was chopped in half.”

Logan looked down at the place I was pointing to. Several beams had been either removed or destroyed, leaving three whole sections where animals could escape. I scanned each spot and saw some of the same signs on each, anger building in my chest with the dawning realization that this wasn’t an accident.

It was sabotage.

“You think it’s some dumb kids?” Logan asked. “There was that little group of teenagers who broke into the Crocketts’ barn that time a couple years ago.”

“No, I don’t think so,” I said. “This doesn’t look like the work of some dumb kids. This was purposefully letting animals out. Whoever did this snuck onto the land, let the animals out first, then broke the fences and encouraged them to leave. Then they got the hell out of here fast.”

“Unless they’re still on the land.”

Logan and I stared at each other for a long moment.

“We can’t just leave the fence like this,” I said. “One of us will have to stay here and fix it.”

“I’ll go check out the barns and stuff. See if I see anything.”

I nodded, and Logan took off, heading across the fields toward the various barns and pens where animals were kept. Since Owen hadn’t gotten home yet, most of them should still be locked up, making it easy to account for everybody. Meanwhile, I took a look at the fence and tried to see if I could piece it back together at least partially. The fence itself didn’t need to be all that strong, it just needed to be sturdy enough that it wouldn’t fall apart if an animal touched it.

I was able to cobble together enough to get one section fixed up temporarily while Logan was gone, and when he returned, I could tell by his expression that he hadn’t found anything. The shotgun was still in his hands, but he was carrying it low, clearly annoyed.

“Nothing?” I asked.

“Nope,” he said. “Just the ones we got out of the road. Whoever did it wasn’t very thorough.”

“I don’t think they aimed to be,” I said. “I think this was a message rather than a mission. You know? Whoever did this wanted us to be afraid.”

“You think it was Arn?”

I didn’t answer at first, letting it roll around in my mind. I had to admit it was my first thought. But I tried to keep my mind open to all possibilities. Yet, one by one, all the others seemed less plausible.

“Probably,” I said. “Do you remember when Amber first came back to town and Luke and Collin had to help her rescue Mrs. Miller’s cow, Hessa?”

“I do,” he said.

“I remember Luke said something strange about it. He said it had branches down over it like it had fallen and broken the fence, but the beams themselves looked like they’d been cut in half. He said it looked weird.”

“I called Luke. He should be here in a minute. He’s just across the street.”

“Good,” I said. “Because someone’s going to have to go with me up to the station and keep me from getting arrested.”

Luke was at the house just a few minutes later and came down to where we stood by the fence in the farm use truck, bearing all the wood and tools we’d need to fix the fence. Hopping out, not saying a word, he went to work, and the three of us got the fence functional in just a little bit of time, wrapping barbed wire to keep them all together and in place with the others.

“I heard you wanted to go up to the sheriff’s office,” Luke muttered as he put the tools back in the truck.

“I do,” I said.

“Then hop in.”

Logan headed off to the house to get ready for work as Luke and I went onto the road and north to the sheriff’s office. We didn’t speak in the car, but as soon as we pulled in, Luke put the truck in park and grabbed my arm.

“Don’t say anything until I do,” he said. “Logan knows we’re here. If we don’t come back, he’ll come get us, but we don’t want to give them a reason.”

“Speak for yourself,” I said. “I want a piece of Arn’s teeth.”

I slammed the door of the truck as I got out, stomping my way inside with Luke trailing behind me. He wasn’t going to try to talk me out of anything anymore. The Galloways rolled deep, and we rolled together. If one of us was going to scrap, the others were too.

Arnold and Oland were relaxing at two of the desks, their feet up on them when we came in. Immediately, they got to their feet, but I didn’t give them any warning. I lunged and planted a fist into Arnold’s jaw.

The scuffle was quick, but it ended with me in handcuffs and Luke being told to get the hell out. That I was under arrest for assaulting an officer.

“How can I assault an officer when the man I punched isn’t legally wearing a badge?” I grumbled.

“I’ll get you out,” Luke said. “Just keep your mouth shut. And if he is any more beat-up than he is right now when I get out, there will be hell to pay, boys.”

“Get moving before I arrest you for threatening an officer,” Oland said.

“It ain’t a threat, Oland. It’s a promise.”

As Luke headed out of the door, running back to the truck to go gather the others and figure out how to get me out, Eugene grabbed me from behind and bodily threw me into the first available cell. I landed hard on my chest, and they slammed the door shut without bothering to uncuff me.